


Summer Heat

by StarliteNights



Series: AU Dixon Living [1]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: AU, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - No Zombie Apocalypse, Alternate Universe - No Zombies, Brother/Brother Incest, Clean yo shit, Drug Dealer, Drugs, Everybody is sweaty and kinda gross, Good Brother Merle Dixon, Incest, Its fucking hot, Kinda, M/M, Merles still an ass, Nasty boys, Reference to Drug Use, Sibling Incest, Someone grease the damn door, Trailer living, Warm beer, blowjob, consumption of alcohol, cum, nO ac, unhygenic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-15
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-03-05 16:15:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18832168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarliteNights/pseuds/StarliteNights
Summary: Daryl's sweating his ass off watching their shitty TV and drinking piss warm beer.





	Summer Heat

**Author's Note:**

> Unbetaed all mistakes are my own. Unfortunately I don't own The walking dead.

Daryl sat slumped on their ratty old sofa. The armrest frayed, the cushions sunk in and worn. The fabric as grimy as Daryl himself. It used to be an off green-blue. Now it's a concoction of muddled green-blue-grey, reddish brown patches of mud and grease. 

The TV isn't the clearest, but it's not complete static. There's a hunting show on, two men looking for a bull moose somewhere in Alaska. Their not having the best of luck, the first two days of the trip have been foggy and damp with barely a glimpse of any game.

Reaching down to the floor beside him and retrieving his beer, Daryl watches. The beers warm, the case having been left out from their trip into town early that morning.

It's hot. The air thick and suffocating, there's no AC in their shitty living arrangement. The bed at the front of the trailers barely big enough for one grown man, it'll fit two if you're cuddled up. The rest of the space is as equally small. A two seater sofa to the side of the entertainment centre that's built into the wall that cuts the bedroom off from the rest of the trailer. A sink built into the counter next to the propane stove and a tiny bathroom at the back with a standing shower.

Not for the first time Daryl wishes they could afford something better. Nothing luxurious, he's still a Dixon, just something more. Anything more then this shitty stuffy trailer. Maybe a cabin. A little run down, but more open. They could have a shed built around back or off to the side. Big enough to haul the bike in out of the worst weather. Have it out in the woods. Easier for hunting. Clean their kills right there on the patio. In a different town, one where people don't know their name. Maybe have it near a pond, or a lake. They could even go fishing. 

The sound of Merle's boots on the gravel outside pulls him back. Day dreamings for pussys anyways.

The hinges of the screen door protests Merle's entry with a screech. 

"Gon' have to grease tha'." 

They've been saying that for over a week now. Eventually they might actually get around to it. Chances are it'll be him who fixes it after getting sick of Merle's complaining.

Merle's muttering is lost in his shirt as he pulls it off over his head. Its almost completely sweat stained. Smells like it too. It's sweltering out and Merle's been gone the majority of the day. His face and the back of his neck is starting to get sunburned along with his arms.

Merle hauls a couple beer from the case on the table. He keeps one for himself and shoves the rest in their tiny fridge. Lumbers his way to the other end of the couch before sprawling out. It's a tight fit for two fully grown men, but they make it work.

Merle takes a swig and settles his arm across the backrest, finger tips sliding into Daryl's hair. Thick work worn fingers digging into his scalp, Merles thumb brushing his ear. 

Daryl sighs and leans into the caress. He's glad Merle's back. Hates when he goes out on those runs, but they need the money. It's not like they can go out and get honest jobs. Ain't nobody in this town gonna hire a Dixon. 

Merle's sober, or at the very least not bugged outta his mind. A rare treat lately.

Daryl takes advantage while he can, and enjoys the weight of his brother beside him. Eventually sinking into his side, head rested on Merle's broad shoulders. His brothers sweat damp and a lil ripe but he's not any better himself.

Merle doesn't seem to mind much. Wraps his arm round Daryl's shoulders holding him close, hand tucked into his side.

It's not often they do this. Mostly it's in the dark of night. There's only one bed and it's just big enough for the two of em. Being close is inevitable.

Daryl's hand glides down over Merle's chest, fingers drifting though the hair littering it. Sliding his palm over his stomach, Feeling him breathe beneath his hand. It's soothing and hypnotic. Watching the rise and fall. 

"It's warm as fuck." 

Merle let's the empty glass bottle fall to the floor with a groan. He shifts lower, legs falling open. One jean covered thigh flush with Daryl's own boxer clad. 

Daryl gives a grunt of agreement thumb rubbing circles into the flesh above his brothers belt. He can feel Merle's attention slipping from the TV and onto him. His chin tilting to rest against Daryl's forehead, watching.

His brothers breathe against his face picks up as he slowly trails down to his bulge. Merle's not hard, but it won't take long to get him there. Daryl rubs slow and sure, groping him through his jeans. The fabric rough against his fingers as he traces what lies below. 

Daryl tilts his head up capturing Merles lips with his own. It's a heated kiss, tongues tangling and fighting for dominance. Merle's hand covering his own, pushing down and grinding against his hardening cock. 

It's still hot as fuck in here and getting into this isn't gonna cool them down, but it'll waste some time. 

"Tha's it. Jus' like that lil brotha'." Merle moans into his mouth. His hand leaving Daryl's own to slip under the band of his boxers. Rough and warm fingers gripping him, thumb rubbing over his sensitive slit. 

He pulls on Merle's belt working the worn leather open and dragging down his zipper. Dipping inside his waistband and getting a handful of thick hard cock. 

Neither one of them's circumcised and Merle's the type that's wet from start to finish. Leaking precum the minute he's hard and he's no different now when Daryl pulls him out. Foreskin pulled back and the head slick already. Merle's average in length but like the rest of him it's stocky, and Daryl knows from experience it gives a nice stretch. 

"Mmpf, ya like that dont'cha, you gonna' suck my cock?" Merle's voice is a gruff purr in his ear.

Daryl knows it's not really a question, so he snorts in reply and slides down onto the floor between Merle's spread legs. 

Merles jeans are just about as stained as the sofa. Grease from working on the bike, blood from hunting what they can and lord knows what else. Probably a good cum stain or two, and why not add to the collection? 

His cocks standing pointed up at his belly button, jeans flayed open around the base with the band of his underwear tucked up under his sack. It's an obscene image only made worse by Merle wrapping a hand around himself and giving a few slow rolling pulls. Precum pearls and eventually slips down to the sensitive underside of the head. Merle swipes it up with a finger and pops it in his mouth, humming around it like its liquid sugar. 

Daryl leans forward to lick a wide stripe from base to tip and engulfs the head with a groan. He's mostly used to the taste by now, salty and a little acidic, it caught him by surprise the first time. 

He hollows his cheeks and minds his teeth before bobbing his head experimentally. He's done this before but his experience is still limited. Merle was the first and so far his only, not that he'd do this for anyone else. 

Merle buries his fingers in his hair with a groan forcing Daryl down further. He gags and pulls up quickly swallowing as best he can to get rid of the feeling. He glares up at his brother from under his overgrown bangs and hopes he gets the message. Merle pushes him down again with a smirk.

He tries to breathe and take what he can which isn't much and again he chokes. His eyes are getting watery and he's kinda starting to drool. It's a little gross but Merle isn't complaining so he takes it as a semi-win and fishes his own dick out of his shorts. 

He's smaller then Merle in length and girth but it's still a decent handful, considering he's only got one other to compare it with. He doesn't get wet like Merle either, at least not until he's close. 

He pulls off long enough to spit in his hand before Merle's urging him back on. He wraps a hand around himself and one around the base of Merle's in an attempt to not get choked out. 

From there it's pretty much a blur. Merle's groaning and sweet talking up above him, hands twisted in his hair pulling and pushing. His own hands working furiously at his throbbing length and the base of Merle's as best he can. It's not long before he starts to feel the telltale tightening and he moans around his brothers cock as he spends himself on the floor. Which apparently sets Merle off without warning as the bastard practically shoots down his throat. 

He gags and it's fucking nasty. He might be getting used to the taste but this is something different all together. It's thicker and the textures weird and the taste is so much stronger. He manages to swallow the first bit after nearly choking on it, but can't force himself to take down the rest. It's fucking gross and Merle damn well owes him for this one.

Eventually Merle finishes pumping it out and lets him up. Daryl doesn't even go for the sink, just spits it right out on their floor. 

"The fuck was tha' asshole?!" He glares up at Merle's shit eating smirk and fights the after taste stuck to the back of his throat.

"Ya best clean tha' up. Place is a mess as t'is boy." Merle's still grinning down at him, all loose limbed and stated.

"Fuck you man! Ain't cleaning Shit!" He socks Merle in the leg as he's getting to his feet. Tucking his cock in and pulling his boxers back in place. 

He turns around to the fridge and pulls out a decently chilled beer, considering this trailer really is a piece of shit and the fridge likes to be finicky. He reluctantly pulls one out to hand off to Merle after he's chased the taste from his mouth. 

Except Merle's already starting to doze off, between the heat and their activities he's beat.

So he kicks him awake and hands him a cold one. Cause if Merle takes a nap now he knows he'll be cleaning up their combined mess from the floor AND cooking supper. So fuck him if he thinks he gets a nap. 

"Imma start the grill outside, you clean this shit up, ya?" He doesn't wait for a response just makes his way outside into the evening sunlight. 

It should start to cool off some but it's still gonna be a sticky night. Standing in front of a grill ain't gonna help with the heat none but damn if he's waiting around for Merle to do it.


End file.
